


Honeysuckle

by mochitam



Category: K-pop, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Angst, Disease, First Love, First Time, Fluff, I'm Sorry, I've never wrote fluff so..., Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Marriage, Runaway, Sad, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just kisses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-04-20 13:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14261868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochitam/pseuds/mochitam
Summary: My nose hinted traces of dandelions and honeysuckle. The honeysuckle that I would pick every spring when they first begin to bloom.





	1. prologue

What I enjoyed best was letting the breeze flow through my hair. The euphoria that stung me when I inhaled with the breeze, was enticing. My nose hinted traces of dandelions and honeysuckle. The honeysuckle that I would pick every spring when they first begin to bloom. My ears picked up slight calls of canary’s. Their songs were the most beautiful. My toes dance messily in the grainy grass but, it feels nice betweent them. My arms were bare and the air kissed them with a peck. I would never get tired of this. I never got tired of waking up every morning to the same silence. The average person would think that it may be lonely. It wasn’t. When you’ve learned to live like this for half a decade, you get used to it. 

My time was spent reading, or singing, or playing with Torio. Sometimes Torio and I would have staring contests and of course, he would always win. I’d always accused him of cheating. Which was ironic because he was a cat. 

I’d known Torio since I was born. He was there from when I could first remember. A big fat ball of gray and orange fur. That fur was soft though, so it made him more special. Even when I awoke that day to find no traces of a human anywhere, he was still there. Torio cried with me that day. 

It was warm, as expected. I awoke to no smell of food or gentle shake of a hand. Nor the voice that would soothe me awake and prepare me for the day. At that time I blew it off as nothing and assumed my mother was only asleep. For some reason I didn’t believe myself. I crawled out of the bed slowly. The goose bumps on my bare legs rose when the cold air that surrounded the room hit them. I shivered. 

I traveled out into the loft and looked silently around. My arms were wrapped securely around my chest; as if I were afraid my soul would escape somehow. I called out for my mother but no response was returned. My feet continued to pad through the house. When I reached my mothers room I was hesitant to walk in. I hugged myself closer. I could feel my nails digging into my shoulders though I couldn’t register it. It was feeling of vulnerability. I had never been that unsure in my life. I grabbed the knob with my small fingers firmly. It was cold, too cold. 

I twisted the knob and creaked the door open as slowly and as quietly as I could. There was no reason for me to be so cautious but I figured, if it’s quiet I won’t think about it. And if I don’t think about it, it won’t hurt. 

The door swung open after a little shove. I was instantly hit with emptiness. It threw itself at me and I startled back. There was nobody. The only thing I could make out was an orange ball at the foot of the brown wickered bed. The cat stirred when the door hit the wall behind it and turned to squint at me. He let out a small yawn and stood with a stretch. I stood still as he trotted over to me. I was more than likely paralyzed. When he reached my feet, he looked into my eyes. Somehow, I could see the sorrow in them. The pity. For a minute it seemed as if he were saying ‘I’m sorry.’ 

I crouched down and rested my hands on me knees. Torio nudged my fingers and let out a cracked meow. I thought he was crying with me then. I could of swore he was. Perhaps I was delusional. Perhaps, my heart was in too much pain to make sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me! @strayult on twitter


	2. bruised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you okay?” I asked..  
> “No.” He mumbled as he reached for me

Specific nights like this were what I would describe as: cold. If you listened closely you could hear the wolves in the woods howling distantly for their pack. I always tried to find a meaning in their howels. A long howl would mean, ‘Come back safe.’ A short and grainy howl would suggest, ‘Fine, be that way.’ And the howls that always sent a chill down my spine were the long but loud ones that meant, “I love you.” 

The moon was up high, centered perfectly in the the array of stars. If you strained your ear, you could hear the slight gasps of an unknown voice. Sometimes, it sounded almost like a cry— a small whimper. 

 

Most of the time, I payed it no mind. However, tonight I felt a sting in my heart. I didn’t know who this voice belonged to or why they cried. Deep down I wanted to help them but, I was scared. I would let them cry. 

Eventually they stopped and it was quiet. I never went to check if they left or not. They could still be in the trees watching me, waiting. It could be all a trap to lure me into a dangerous situation. I sighed harshly. 

Sometimes—on nights like this— if I thought hard enough, I would think about my mother. And when I did, my heart would clench. I constantly had to remind myself that it was her business where she went and I trained myself to think that it was not my business where she went. 

Though it had been years now, I still trusted her. She was always kind to me. Making sure I went to bed fed and full. There was never a day my clothes were dirty or too stale to wear. Other kids would walk around covered in stains—their parents never caring enough to make sure they were clean. However, my mother always did. I never did doubt her love for me. 

I’d watch her some days, out by the tiny lake to the South of our house. It could be the chilliest days, perfect gusts of wind strong and cold enough to knock some air out of your lungs. No matter the cold she would still grab the rickety basket from the cupboard in the hallway. It was a stretch to call it hallway when it was a mere meter long. It did well to lead to the other side of the house though. My mother would stand on a tiny brown stool and reach to her tiptoes. Her hand would search through the dark mindlessly until finally it stilled and pulled out the baby blue basket. She would smile and climb down from the stool. Most of the time I would trail behind her like a shadow, genuinely curious to what she was doing. She’d go into every room collecting any clothes she could spot. The majority were mine. 

After she’d collect all the clothes she grab the old washboard she bought when I was still in her belly. She told me she had stumbled upon a street market only a few miles west. The things they were selling were cheap but everything was wooden. My mother spotted the washboard laying flat next to some sort of wooden fishing pole with a broken hook. She picked it up and asked the old man how much it was. I remember her words exactly. 

“So, he looked at me. At first I was taken aback by how gruff his face looked. He seemed as if he wanted to kill me! Oh lord I wanted to say nevermind and run away—how fast could a pregnant lady run, do you think? And then I saw him take one look at my belly. Oh Jeongin you wouldn’t believe this. The old man put his hands on his hips and looked me right in the eye and said, 

‘Well damn, you can take it for free. I expect someone in your state is going to need it more than some rich folk looking for a decoration.’ 

“It was mayhaps the funniest thing I’d ever heard! For a second I almost laughed right there. I expected this man to raise the price higher once he saw the state I was in. People are like that Jeongin. Picking on the weak.” 

I thought about those words a lot. It’s been quite awhile since I’ve had any actual human contact unless it was the grocer down through the woods who always made sure I had fruits and bread. Once I told her my mother was gone she instantly invited me to stay with her; she told me it wasn’t right for a boy my age to be left alone. I did tell her no, thinking i’d be too much of a burden and that I could take care of myself. Somehow i’ve managed to do just that. 

It was Tuesday. Tuesday’s and Thursday’s were my days off. Every other day would be spent in the garden or fields trying to earn some extra cash. There wasn’t much that people my age could do. I was in my early twenties but people wanted younger or older workers. A farmer once told me that the younger the more gullible and the older the more hardworking. He said that people like me were a middle ground. I ended up quitting my work for him once he came close to slapping me. I could take verbal abuse but physical was different. It shouldn’t be tolerated. 

On this particular Tuesday I took a stroll. It ended up becoming nightfall during this time but I didn’t mind it. No one really came around here so I never had to worry about getting mugged or kidnapped. The animals were scarce as it was, besides they were more afraid of me than I was of them. I happened to come across my favorite clearing and decided to lounge for awhile. I walked into the middle of the clearing that was surrounded my large trees. From where I was at, the moon could be seen perfectly. Tonight it was full, that meant it was lucky. 

I smiled at it and layed down on the grass. Every bone in my body popped and I let out sigh. I wish I could stay like this all the time but priorities were a must. I closed my eyes to try and rid away the nagging thoughts that very frequently visited my head. I’d like to suppress todays headache if possible. 

Before long I began drifting off. I guess I was more tired than I thought. I let sleep overtake me and fell into unconsciousness. 

To say I was woken up abruptly wasn’t particularly an understatement. The shuffling in the bushes was so aware. Most of the time I would just tune things like that out, it happened regularly when you lived out in the wilderness by yourself. I sat up from my spot on the earth, my back felt cold from the damp grass and my muscles were stiff. My head whipped around in search of the sound. It was continuous and eerie so I stood up. It was weird for me to be genuinely bothered by it so it must’ve been different this time. 

“Hello?” I asked, more confidently that expected. Of course there was no answer but, the shuffling did get louder and more wild. 

I turned around, deciding to go back home. But before I could even take a few steps the shuffling stopped and I heard a thump. Time seemed to stop in this moment as I turned to face the source of sound. 

Before me I didn’t just see the usual shrub, or green leaves. It wasn’t just a random cat or dog that somehow managed to spook the life out of me. In front of me sat the curious looking boy. I did not recognize him. My feet inched back slightly but I did not fully turn away afraid of making subtle movements. I eyed the boy more. He was on his knees while his hands rested in front of him. His once perhaps manila pants were torn and a brown muddy color. Under the rips were faint scratches most likely from the bushes behind. The moonlight shone almost perfectly over him to show his black and tangled hair. It looked as if he hadn’t had a bath in days and I pitied him. His head was pointed down so describe his features wasn’t possible. But I knew the boy couldn’t be much older than me. 

Standing there was getting me nowhere so I took a chance and hovered forward. My instincts—that were particularly loud today—screamed that I should just run home and never look back. Though, there was another part of me. I was never one to turn on a depressed form. If I could do anything to help, I would. My mother always taught me to be kind. She told me to never turn my back on something without knowing the full story. So, today I ignored those instincts and reached my hand out. 

“A-Are you okay?” I asked the boy, not really trusting my voice or expecting an answer. 

My hand landed on his head. I was expecting him to jerk back or at least slap my hand away, but he didn’t. If anything I could’ve swore he nuzzled into the gesture. My heart thumbed loudly beneath my chest and I exhaled. 

“Are you okay?” I asked again, more control in my voice. I could feel the boy stiffen under me as he began to raise his head. 

The moment his eyes met mine all air escaped my lungs. His lip trembled a bit maybe from the blood that slowly escaped from the side. His left eye was bruised profusely. The only thing reeling in my head was how he had gotten this way. This was no bush accident. This had been done intentionally. He squinted his eyes at me and let tiny tears fall.

“No.” He mumbled as he reached for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on twitter lol  
> @strayult


End file.
